And Then Came The Silence
by HufflePuffleJay
Summary: {{HUNGER GAMES FANFIC}} Kinley Bolden's life changes forever after she is reaped as District 8's female tribute in the 63rd Annual Hunger Games. Will this tiny, impoverished girl manage to survive until the end or will she become yet another fallen tribute? Only the Games will reveal her fate.
1. Reaping

_A/N: So, this is my Hunger Games Fic, and it's centered around my dear Kinley. HOWEVER, if you'd like I would be more than happy to include one of your own characters as a background character. If you'd like to submit someone to be her ally, enemy, or whatever, go to my profile and fill out the form at the bottom of the page. And viola! You will be in the story. There is only one rule: do not be a Mary Sue. I'll leave you all at that! Enjoy!_

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_C__**ome away little lamb, come away to the slaughter…**_

Steeler Manos stands on the stage, taunting us by twiring the selected female card around over his of us, right here and now, share the same exact thoughts: Who's being sacrificed this year? Which one of our friends will we watch die this year in the Games? Or could it possibly even be myself? All of us exchange knowing looks, yet not a single soul dares to even murmur over the sense of paranoia cast over the crowd.

Panic begins to set in and tears sting the corners of my eyes. The girl next to me, I think her name is Winnie, squeezes my hand tighter and the strip of paper is unfolded. Winnie and I catch each other's eyes, give a comforting nod, then stare back up at Steeler. I feel my entire body begin to shake with anxiety; my grip on Winnie gets tighter and tighter.

"And District Eight's newest female tribute is…," he waits about ten seconds before saying the name. The moment it's spoken, all of the girls sigh in relief, except for me. _No, it's not true. It can't be. _Frantically, I look up at Winnie, who is staring at me with wild eyes. _God, don't let it be true! _The shaking intensifies. "Kinley? Kinley Bolden? Where are you?"

Then the realization hits me. Emotions begin to overwhelm my mind. Terror, horror, disgust, nausea, grief, vulnerability, loneliness, and dread all mixed into one impossible to imagine sense of fear. _I'm the tribute. _I gag slightly, careful enough to I try to make my way toward the stage, but suddenly everything's gotten strange. My feet feel heavy, my head abnormally light, and my stomach turning every which way. My vision's blurred through tears and confusion until all I see is darkness. Then something hitting my head.

—-

_I gasp for air as I force myself to continue on through the woodland's shadows with as much poise and speed as I can muster. My lungs are pounding into my sides. My chest feels as if kerosene has ignited inside of it. My legs ache and cramp up from the hours of endless sprinting, and my feet… that has to be the worst part. Shoeless, the broken twigs, rocks, and various items have dug their way inside of the skin, so that as I run on, they tear farther and farther inside of my flesh. I want to scream, I want to stop and just rest for a moment. But even just a moment's hesitation will guarantee that I won't make it to see nightfall. She's in hot pursuit after me. That girl. Her knife's still dripping out the blood from my own ally, that kind boy I met in training… A tear falls down my face at the thought of his body. Blood exploding from his neck, and the blank expression left on his face— No. I can't think of him. It's not the time. I have to keep running. Remembering him won't ensure my fate doesn't end the same, after all. Think of something else… anything else._

_I could take her, if I had my hands on that bow. Or even her knives. Anything. I could scamper up a tree and aim the arrow straight at her heart. Surely it would find its way to its destination… Wait, why am I even considering that? What's happening to me. I said I wouldn't kill, and I won't… A grunt escapes my lips as a piece of glass dices through my foot. I just can't do it any longer. I can't avoid her forever and at this rate, I'll die from exhaustion. I feel my pace slow down very little, and just because of that tiny error, that tiny little detail, everything crashes down. A flash of metal whizzes by my ear, missing it by no more than a mere inch. I panic; my feet begin to stop functioning. My breathing is offbeat and I choke on air. My legs have stopped working all together and I end up collapsing to the ground. As divine as it would be to give up right now, I can't. Not here. It wasn't safe enough, and Xan- Xander… He's watching me on our TV right now. I told him I wouldn't die pointlessly. I have to get out of this. There's a tree only about ten feet away that I could climb. It could buy me some time while the girl tries to follow. If I can just… just make it over there…_

_I pull myself desperately towards the tree. Beads of sweat rest roll down my cheeks. I'm not tired. HA! I'm not tired… I still can do this. My hands stretch up to the first branch and just as I had a good grip on it. A glint caught the corner of my eye… then my hand. Blood spewed everywhere as the knife cut through the flesh and bone and into the tree's bark. That's when I lost it. My terrified scream echoed through the forest, bouncing around the trees, going on and on for a few seconds. This is it… I'm dead… Please just make it quick… The girl dashes in my direction. I begin to countdown for my death to come._

_5… 4… 3… 2… 1… 0…_

_—-_

"Stupid girl. Who faints at the reaping?"

Slowly, my vision begins to return. At first, I'm blinded by the sunlight, but it fades into shapes. Then shapes fade into details. The first thing I see is a white face in a white helmet with a blue sky in the background. His arms are beneath my kneecaps and armpits as the figure carries me up to the stage. "Stand up." He whispers in a cold and demanding voice. I obey, though everything is still pretty blurry. Tears are flooding down my face, though I try my best to choke them back. No one's going to save me. I'm all alone and even Xander, my protector, can't do a thing to help me now. I wonder if he's crying too somewhere on the sidelines…

My thoughts cease to an end by the escort's voice, "Sweetie, how old are you?"

I whisper in reply, "Fourteen…" _Fourteen as of a month ago, _I think. She calls for applause, but I can hear the laughter from the sidelines and I know I've made a huge mistake. Everyone will look at me like dead meat now, and sponsors pretty much out of the picture. Oh god… What did I just do to myself…

"And now, for the boys!" Steeler smiles charmingly up at the cameras, I assume to try and save District 8 from being a complete failure. He picks out a strip from the second bowl and reads out the name much less hesitantly than with the girls. "Alex Blanchard!"

The name sounds a little familiar, but I don't know him personally. I scan over the crowd, trying to find the face. There!

Alex Blanchard was no big, scary opponent by any means, quite the opposite actually. With shaggy, unkept blonde hair and intense, terrified blue eyes, he almost looked average. However, something about him was different. He looked weaker than the others around the district. No, no, that wasn't it... Something about his eyes... They were softer, as if he learned to accept poverty instead of despising it. Something about this boy reassured me.

"People of District Eight, give a hand for your tributes!" Steeler piped out, with a forced smile plastered on his face. Alex and I faced one another, smiled slightly, and shook hands.

**_Give yourself so we may live anew._**


	2. Goodbyes

The moment Alex and I shake hands, it's all over. The crowd disperses, laughs of relief fill the air, and we're whisked away toward the building. _At least they will all be happy for another year_, I tell myself in reassurance. Generally, I'm a happy person. I just can't help but to be optimistic. It's just my natural emotion. Right now, as I look down at the fleeing crowds, a feeling I haven't experienced in years begins to creep its way along through my veins: sheer terror; I can't stand a single second of it.

But this is what the games were designed to do. Strike fear in everyone's hearts right before the 'lucky' tributes are slaughtered. Besides, even if they've manage to survive, they never remain the same as they were before. Their spirits are crushed; they become infinitelt haunted by the 's why at this moment I cannot allow them to rob the happiness from my personality. I want- No. I _need_ to stay optimistic if I don't want them to change me.

**"**I'm really sorry about ruining our chances at sponsors. I feel bad about it," I whisper to Alex on the way inside the Justice Building. Surely a conversation could divert my mind away from the horrible reality in front of my eyes. Surprisingly, He's actually not that bad of a person. He seems nice enough, somewhat optimistic as well. He says the whole fainting scene is fine then asks about my head. No sooner than after the words sink in do I notice how bad my head has gotten in the last few minutes. I rub my fingertips on my temples, not that it helps much. I shove the pain aside, denying it hurts at all. We manage to have a nice little chat on our way to the rooms still and it's a bit of a comfort to know I will have at least one ally in the arena. Then we're forced into parting ways.

I'm lead into a very bland room with white in every direction. White walls, white floors, white furniture, white everywhere. A little disappointed in the decor, I plop right down on the couch and allow my mind to wonder freely.

_So this is it… I'm completely alone._

The tears start to roll down my cheeks.

_Stop it. _

More follow behind.

_Stop crying right now. _

I can't help but to bawl my eyes out.

_Don't you dare get depressed! You are an optimist. Optimists do not cry, Kinley. THEY. DO. NOT. CRY._

I'm lying down and curled up on my side, crying so hard I can feel the couch dampening. Then I feel a hand rubbing my back.

Someone's watching the optimist cry.

_Please don't be Xander, he can't see me cry. He can't._

I sit upright, drying my face with my hands, until I can make out a face. Winnie. She can't see me cry either. No one will. "H-hi. Winnie, right? Sorry, I was just…" It's too late to lie my way out of it. I can already see that look in her eyes. The kind of look that screams out pity, as if she's looking at a dead puppy or something. "No, no, don't be sad. Be happy. You're safe. You should be excited."

Winnie sits down on the couch with me, trying to smile, but I still can read the heartbreak through her face. "How can I? You don't deserve to be here, Kinley. I barely even know you and I can already tell you that! Why else would half the school be here?! You must mean a lot them."

I raise an eyebrow, "Lots of people came to say bye?"

She smiles a little, "Because of your reputation."

I've never really considered myself to have a reputation, but still the thought brings a smile to my face. "Thanks, Winnie. I really needed to hear that."

She puts a hand on my shoulder, "Thank me by coming home. It's about time those careers lost and a decent person became the victor."

That thought… It's triggers an idea. While my death is imminent,and yes, I know that already, someone who really deserves to win can with my help. Oh, that has to be the best feeling: knowing you are saving a life by sacrificing your own. "Times up." The peacekeeper barges in the room, and I hug her right before she's escorted out.

It's only about five seconds later that my next guest walks in, a classmate named Audrey. Then another named Carter. Then Alice. Then Mason. One by one they come and chat with me a final time. We have nice talks about life, how I have to win, and how they'll miss me a ton while I'm in the Games. It's kind of strange how they all can look at me and honestly think I stand the slightest chance here. None of it really matters anyhow. I'm still thinking about what Winnie said. It IS time for a non-career to have a chance… Eventually after 15 guests, a figure comes in the room and all my thoughts cease instantly. I stare at him, he stares back then we run into each other's embrace.

"3 minutes." The guard mutters before slamming the door shut.

"Kinley!" Xander's arms are wrapped around me. I feel his hot tears, soaking through my sleeve and immediantly pull away to dry his face.

"No, don't cry, don't cry. PLEASE don't cry over me Xander. It's fine, really!" I feel the tears teasing my own eyes, but shake it off and hug him again.

"Kinley… I promised your sister I'd protect you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! You don't belong in the games, you're too young, too… too…"

I put my finger over his lips to quiet him. With a small smile, I look at him and tell him,"I'll be fine, I promise. Look, I'm probably not coming home again, so-"

"Don't say that. You will. You're going to live. I guarantee that to you."

I shake my head, "I don't want to. Xander… I love you as my own brother, I really do, but if all those people have to die for me to return, I won't be able to live with that kind of guilt. I won't kill someone and change into some sort of monster just to please the Capitol. I don't want to."

A small smile forms on his lips. He kisses my forehead and pulls me in tighter. "I'm proud of you, Kin. I really am, so if this is the last time I'll ever see you, I want you to know that. You're the toughest little girl I know." He taps his finger on my nose and I laugh.

"Xander, I'm not a baby, you know."

"I know you aren't, but you aren't old enough to have to go through all this either."

"Time's up. Let's go." The guard pulls on Xander's arm, but he shruggs him off and walks out while saying the final words I'll ever hear from him. "Keep smiling, Kin. I'll see you again someday."

So, that's it, I guess. I have to keep on smiling through the fear for Xander's sake. No one will see me cry. They'll see the smiling optimist they've always known on their TVs as the games go on.

I sit in the room for a few minutes, wondering where my parents are, but then I hear the screams. **"**You can't go in there! The farwell hour is over!"

A woman's voice, unmistakably my mother's, is fighting back, begging and pleading to come inside, and when the door flings open, I half-expect to see her and dad right there. Instead, I have the pleasure of seeing a peacekeeper, dressed in all white, ready to escort me to the train. I must admit, it's a disappointment.


	3. Train Ride

This train is AMAZING! My eyes dart from side to side, glancing at the polished hard wood floors for a brief second before shifting up to the glimmering chandeliers that loom a foot or two over my head. Pastries and other treats lie spread over the table beckoning toward them, but I'm in too big of shock to even try and move. Finally, I break out into a wide grin and beam out, "OH MY GOD!" I pounce around the room, awing over many of the items.

Steeler, our escort who, if I might add, has the most gorgeous eyes ever (They're dyed to look like a rainbow is trapped inside of them.), smiles and begins to go into a long conversation about everything: where the train was made, how work gadgets, how the jelly-filled donuts used to be his favorite dessert when he was our age. Surprisingly, I'm actually pretty interested as opposed Alex, who has been giving him the death glare the entire ride so far. Part of me wants to go talk to him, but the other part doesn't want to hurt Steeler's feelings. So, I say nothing and just sit and nod until he goes silent.

It goes on for what seems like forever, leaving me tapping my foot lightly against the ground and peek around every inch of the room._ I should say something, _I think to myself, but the words can't seem to find their way out.

_Why is he so depressed, he was fine just before the Goodbyes… What happened…_

The silence seems endless. It takes less than a minute before I give in and mutter the first thought that pops in my head, which is not exactly the most intellectual thing to say. "So, um, like, where's our mentor?"

Then I hear Lowell call out from the dining table. Alex sends a death glare in her direction as a response. "OOH! We got a fighter this year!" The thought sends shivers down my spine. I don't want to think him that way. He looks way too kind to be a fighter, too… too Alex. Fortunately Lowell breaks my thoughts up by calling us over to eat.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see his face changes to something more lively as his eyes meet the trays of food. We all sit and begin to pick out our food. I can't help but to smile at the way he overly stuffs his plate. _It's amazing how food can change a mood so quickly._ I happily begin to follow in his example, only with sweets. Cupcakes, candy, cookies- I suppose that I should be eating real food too. So I add in some rolls and meat then take a bite.

I honestly didn't mean to scarf down the food, but the moment the first bite touched my taste buds, all my manners faded away. It's all so incredible… Just the right mixture of rich and creamy and very prestigious compared to anything District 8 has to offer. As a result, within ten minutes of eating, our mountains of food that were stockpiled on the plates have disappeared completely.

"What do ya think?" Steeler giggles.

I couldn't make out Alex's answer with the final bits of food in his mouth. Lowell seems to understand and replies something about a roasted duck before Steeler hurries off to his room, absolutely disgusted.

"So what are your talents?" Lowell says with a great big smile.

Talents. What is my talent? I hate fighting so that rules out every weapon. I'm too small for weights and whatnot, but I'm good at running. Sometimes, when I was little, my sister would take me to these races the district children put on to occupy themselves. Every time I was up, I beat them all. My hand flies up, "I'm good at running."

The expression on her face seems to want more, but when she realizes nothing is coming, I can see in her eyes how her hope for me dies. "Okay… What about you Alex?" He goes into deep thought, but when he doesn't answer, I chip in, "C'mon, you have to be good at something!" With a shrug, he talks about having good aim and being a quick learner.

Then Lowell cracks. "Well, you better learn quickly! I thought we may have some fighters this year, but I guess not!" I tense up as she yells, partly afraid she might hit us, but instead we catch each other's eyes. Her face softens while she gets her temper under control and she heads to another section of the train.

"District 8 never gets fighters." Alex's voice catches me off guard. With a small jump, I look up at him. He looks even worse now.

"I'm sure you can fight. Isn't it part of a guy's nature to know how to fight? At least you have good aim; all I'm good at is running… on the fighting side anyways." I go quiet for a second. I guess he could be a fighter couldn't he? Scary thought… "How do you learn to get good aim anyways?" I don't ask him because I'm curious as to how to kill with a knife, only to try and give us something to talk about and cheer him up, even if just a tiny bit. He tenses up a bit before going into a story about his sister teaching him to throw a knife. A small hint of a smile on his lips brings one to mine as well.

What he does next is the strangest thing that happened to me all day. He walks over to me, looks right in my eyes, and rips a piece off my shirt. Puzzled, I watch as he ties the piece of yellow onto his bracelet along with the strand of red. Why did he…

Then it hits me. "Do those pieces represent someone you want to remember from back home?" It would make sense. Tokens are meant to remember home, he had a sister, mother, father. That makes three strands, but what about the other three?

"Sort of."

I knew it. He tenses up again, and just as I ask about who he wants to remember he runs off as well. I follow along unnoticed, but I can hear his cries from the second I enter the other part of the train. "Me…" I whisper, understanding. He knows I'm going to die…

A tear falls down my cheek at how horrible I am. The strands… His sadness. They're dead. Whoever the strands depict, they're long gone. And I had the guts to bring them up. No wonder he's crying. I spin around and hurry back to the main car alone. The TV flickers on, and there are the reaping recaps. I slowly sink into the couch and stare up at the screen. It's a lot better quality than at home, that's for sure.

District One is up. The girl, Kaylee, goes into a frenzy, kicking and screaming as the peacekeepers push her up to the stage. A career breaking down? Despite this incident, she's still powerful, she has to be! She's a career! The boy, Cutter, is reaped as well, but when they're asked to shake hands, Kaylee is too deep in tears to. And that's it. The channel flips to the next District, but I'm still surprized at how _normal _they look. It's almost like a lower District reaping…

District Two's female, Ces, is smaller than me! She has to be twelve… and no volunteers? What is going on with the career districts today? Where are the normal volunteers?! When the male's name is called a dozen hands shoot up ready to take his place. I giggle a little as if my talking to myself caused this. They select a boy who introduces himself as Assax, though his eyes are wandering to someone in the crowd who the cameras do not show.

District 3 gets a volunteer! An 18 year old took the place of a 12 year old, which is very weird considering their last names say they aren't related. It winds up with the boy volunteers too, but he seems to know the boy even though they aren't brothers. I hug the couch's pillow to my chest as he walks onto the stage. He's beyond angry, and that is enough for me to fear him. He and his partner look like real fighters with THAT much anger.

District Four's volunteer girl is expected in my opinion and looks VERY careerlike. She smiled almost sinister while she was on the stage, which means she doesn't have the slightest problem with killing to win… I gulp hard and tighten my grip on the pillow. The boy looks like he's about to start bawling, but it's easy to tell by his tensed up body posture that he's doing a decent job holding it back.

Another volunteer girl rises in District Five along with a reaped boy named Napoleon. I count them out in my head… That makes five volunteers now. Still surprising.

District Six is average for their district: two reaped kids trying to conceal their emotions. Still, they could be a threat; you never know.

Seven's girl is similar to the previous two as far as being reaped goes, but the boy that follows because the sixth volunteer. None of this makes sense. Why are there so many volunteers? This never happens… Maybe it's a good thing, like a sign of ignorance. I could out-smart them. What am I saying? It's like I'm actually wanting to kill. No, I don't need to out-smart anyone. All I have to do is get on their good sides and surely they wouldn't come after me right? Friends don't slaughter friends.

Then there's us. My name being called and me collapsing. They cut out how I got up to the stage, flipping over the Alex instead. I never noticed how terrified he really looked… The thought makes me turn away from the TV until District Nine comes.

It was normal until some girl from the audience lunges forward screaming for the boy. She was taken away, of course, but I decide that I can't watch this any longer. It's too heartbreaking to know that all these people that I'll be competing with have families of their own to get back to. It's official now that I've seen this: I refuse to kill. I am NOT taking someone away from their family. Tears are sliding down my face now despite my opposition to it. "Stop crying."

I spin around to see Lowell standing behind me. She stares at me very coldly, no emotion on her face whatsoever. She walks over to me, glares down at me, and whispers something awful. "You knew you were going to die when your name was called, why are you so shocked now?" Tears swell up in my eyes but I just stare up. How could she say that. I'm crying and she's trying to break me down even farther?

"Why are you being so mean…"

She laughs and snarkily answers, "Don't expect everyone to be nice, sweetie. They all want to go home just like you. But they won't… only one will. And it won't be you as I can already tell." She half-laughs and mocks me, "_why are you being so mean. _HA! Haven't heard that one before." She slams something into the wall before walking off.

I wipe the tears from my eyes and calm myself down. Think optimistic… think optimistic. Well, at least I have one ally so far. Surely more will come. Not all of them can be evil, and I'll just avoid the ones that are.

I will not cry.

_I will not cry._

**_I will not cry. _**


End file.
